


And Indeed There Will Be Time

by XiuChen4Ever



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Age Difference Reversal, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Playgrounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-08-19 08:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiuChen4Ever/pseuds/XiuChen4Ever
Summary: Mark likes to follow the rules, but he really likes Donghyuck-hyung, too.





	And Indeed There Will Be Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moodmaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodmaker/gifts).
  * Inspired by [maybe the end is near](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19298305) by [moodmaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodmaker/pseuds/moodmaker). 

> I really liked the original fic even though I don't usually read fics with "sad endings" (although in this case the end was more poignant than truly sad). Since I'm Super Soft, I flipped almost everything about 'maybe the world is ending' around to make it a fluffy fic about the dawn of life rather than a maudlin one about the end of the world. I even flipped the age gap--in this AU, it's Donghyuck who gets to be older (and taller) for once! But I was in love with the underlying theme of Donghyuck teaching Mark how to really live, so I hope that still shines through!

Mark loves the swings. It’s the closest thing to flying he can get. And Mark really wants to fly, maybe someday as a pilot or an astronaut or just in a hot air balloon, big and beautiful and blue. Blue is the best color, like the sky. Mark’s Dad likes blue, too, and Mark likes his Dad. He likes his Papa, too, even if Papa insists that pink is the best. Dad says it’s just to tease them. Papa likes to tease.

Today the swings at the playground are all being swung in already, and that makes Mark want to pout for a moment. But then he catches sight of Donghyuck over at the sandbox and his smile jumps back onto his face. Donghyuck says red is the best color but red and blue go nice together and so do Mark and Donghyuck.

“Donghyuck-hyung!” Mark yells, running across the gravel that covers the ground by the swings and beneath the slides. It makes a crunchy noise beneath his sky blue sneakers as he charges over to his favorite friend. Donghyuck is a year older than Mark but he’s always been really nice to Mark anyway, only teasing him a little bit like Papa does, the kind of teasing that’s nice and not mean.

“Minhyungie!” Donghyuck answers, his smile getting bigger when Mark scrunches up his face. Mark has two names, just like both his Dad and his Papa, because it’s easier for Canadians to pronounce. But Mark doesn’t live in Vancouver anymore, he lives in Seoul now and in Korea we use our Korean names. That’s what Dad says but Papa likes to tease and sometimes he calls Mark’s Dad  _ Min-hyung-ee _ instead of  _ Minseok-hyung, _ just so that Mark’s name and his Dad’s name sound alike.

He likes that his name and his Dad’s name have the same  _ Min _ at the beginning. And in Vancouver he’d been proud that he had two names and two languages. His parents taught him that family and culture are important even if they’d had to move away from their family and culture to get married and adopt Mark. They’d stayed in Canada until Mark was old enough for school and now Mark isn’t Mark anymore, he’s Minhyung and it’s still kind of weird to use his other name. Inside, he still feels like  _ Mark. _

And Donghyuck knows Mark likes to be called by his English name, too, and he usually calls him that except that he likes to tease so sometimes Mark has to remind him of the rules.

“Rule one,” Mark huffs as he climbs into the giant sandbox beside his friend. “My name is still Mark even though I’m Korean.”

“I know, I know,” Donghyuck laughs. “And my name is just Donghyuckie, okay, no need for that  _ hyung _ business.”

“But  _ hyung _ is polite. And it’s because we’re close—like brothers.” In Canada people don’t say things like  _ hyung _ but Mark’s Papa uses it with Mark’s Dad anyway. Papa said it’s a word for people that are like family, and he’s really glad to be in a family with Mark’s Dad. And Mark is really glad to have Donghyuck for a friend, so he feels like he should use  _ hyung _ with Donghyuck, too.

“Right, we’re really close. So close that we don’t need any honorifics at all, do we? I told you this before.” Donghyuck smiles and gives Mark a very slow, gentle punch in the ribs that means he’s only pretend-angry with him. “Now take your shoes off before you get sand in them, polite rules boy.”

Donghyuck wiggles his own bare toes and Mark hurries to join him, lining his shoes up neatly at the edge of the sandbox and putting his rolled up socks inside, one in each one.  _ You’re just like your Dad, _ Papa always tells Mark when he does things like this and it makes him smile. He likes being like his Dad.

But he likes being like his Papa, too, so he giggles as he digs his toes into the sand. It’s always dry and soft on top but it’s often darker and wetter underneath and it squishes between his toes when he burrows them down far enough.

“What are you doing?” Mark asks, looking at the landscape Donghyuck has carved into the sand.

Donghyuck grins. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?”

“You’re in the middle of a mess,” Mark laughs.

“It’s not a mess. It’s a race course.” Donghyuck sometimes says things to Mark as if Mark should already know them. But Mark’s a year younger than Donghyuck and he hasn’t learned all the things his friend has yet. Still, Mark has seen racing on TV and he doesn’t remember there ever being any school busses involved.

“You’re gonna race with  _ that?” _ Mark’s giggles slip out between his words. 

“Yeah!” Donghyuck grins. “It’ll go really fast. I fixed it up, see?”

He holds out the palm-sized yellow bus for Mark’s inspection. He’s taped red fins made from construction paper on the back and he’s covered up the  _ S  _ and the  _ H _ on the front of the bus with what looks like glittery gold nail polish. 

“My sister didn’t have any yellow polish,” Donghyuck explains with a shrug. “But now it’s a Cool Bus anyway.”

“It is really cool,” Mark agrees. When he turns it over in his hands, there’s more gold glitter covering the bottom panel of the bus between the wheels. Before he can ask about it, Donghyuck snatches the bus back.

“So I stole it from my brother,” he shrugs again. “He never played with it anymore anyway and now his name’s covered up. It’s mine— _ ours.” _

“Stealing is wrong,” Mark says.

“Are you going to tattle on me?” Donghyuck asks, holding the bus out of Mark’s reach.

Mark chews his lip. He really likes Donghyuck and he doesn’t want him to be in trouble. And if Donghyuck’s brother didn’t play with it…

“No,” Mark decides, shaking his head. “But I want to race it with you.”

“Of course,” Donghyuck says, all smiles again. “We’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Who are they?” Mark asks.

“Some people in a movie. They stole a car, too.”

“Oh,” Mark says. “Did they get in trouble?”

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck says, deepening one area of the racetrack so the wet sand shows at the bottom. “Dad got mad that I was watching a grown-up movie on TV so I didn’t get to see the end.” 

Mark nods in understanding. Grownups keep all the cool movies for themselves. When Mark is grown up, he’s going to get on the Supreme Court, and then he’ll make a law that says kids get to see all the cool movies and TV shows they want. Papa says that if someone doesn’t like the rules, they need to get involved and work to change them, not just break them. Papa broke the rules of Korea by moving to Canada and marrying Dad, but he also works hard as something called an ad-vo-cat to make it okay for two boys to be married in Korea, too. He’s sure his Papa is the best ad-vo-cat. His Dad says Papa has a cat’s smile, and that’s probably how he got a cat’s job.

“First things first,” Donghyuck announces. “We need a ramp. Let’s get some ice cream sticks.”

Mark frowns. “I don’t have any money.”

“Do you really think we need any stupid money?”

“Rule two: No bad words!” Mark objects. 

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “‘Stupid’ isn’t a bad word,” he dismisses. “What are you, a baby?”

“I’m not a baby,” Mark protests. “I’m six!”

“Well, I’m seven. Which means I know how to get ice cream sticks without any money.”

“How?”

“We just take them—”

“But stealing is wrong—” 

“—Out of the trash,” Donghyuck finishes, hopping to his feet and brushing the sand off his knees. He heads over toward where the ice cream man has his cart on the edge of the playground, turning around to glance at Mark. “Are you gonna help, or what?” he calls.

Mark hesitates. He’s only allowed to have his shoes off in the sandbox and he’s not supposed to just leave his shoes alone like Donghyuck, his red sneakers abandoned willy-nilly in the gravel. But Donghyuck needs his help and Mark really likes helping Donghyuck. He stands up and starts picking his way toward his friend, wincing when he gets out of the sandbox and the gravel pokes at the bottoms of his feet.

Donghyuck grins, then gestures to where the walking paths cross near the ice cream cart. “I’m sure there’s a trash can somewhere there.”

“Yeah,” Mark agrees, eyes already locating one of the circular black bins. “We don’t need any stupid money.”

It’s pretty stinky inside the trash can and Mark wishes he didn’t like helping Donghyuck so much. But while Donghyuck doesn’t like being called by honorifics, he sure likes using the fact that he’s older to make Mark do the dirty work.

“Besides,” Donghyuck says when Mark points out how unfair this is. “You’re smaller. You can fit better, and I’m stronger so I’ll hold you up. It wouldn’t work if we tried it the other way.”

Mark pouts a little bit.

“And as a reward for your hard work, I’ll let you drive the Cool Bus first, okay?” Donghyuck smiles at him.

Mark can’t help but smile back. He really wants to make a cool ramp for the Cool Bus and then drive it right up and off the road and into the air, something he would never, ever do in real life but breaking the rules is fun when it’s pretend. So he leans head-first into the trash bin, yelping a little when his bare feet leave the ground and he’s just balancing on his stomach.

“I’ve got you,” Donghyuck says. “I won’t let you fall in.”

Mark can feel Donghyuck’s arms around his waist, keeping him from tipping forward too far as he pokes around in the trash. He quickly finds one ice cream stick and uses it to flick grosser trash aside, looking for another one. 

_ Don’t think about how icky this is. It’s just like Donghyuck-hyung is giving you a hug,  _ Mark tells himself. He can still use  _ hyung _ inside his own head, and it makes him feel a little better to think about his hyung hugging him. He leans in a little farther and Donghyuck’s arms tighten.

“Be careful, Markeu,” Donghyuck calls. “It’s okay if you can’t find any.”

But Mark stretches hard and flicks another stick closer to himself with the first one, wrinkling his nose at the bigger stink stirred up by each movement. He finally manages to grab the second stick and he’s about to call for Donghyuck to haul him up. But just as he opens his mouth he spots something else revealed by the flicked-away trash.

When Donghyuck helps him wiggle back out of the trash can a minute later, Mark comes up grinning, a pair of ice cream sticks in one hand and a clear plastic coin-machine capsule in his other fist.

“What’s that?” Donghyuck asks, brushing down Mark’s clothes. Mark knows his Dad is definitely going to notice the dirt anyway—Dad is like a hawk when it comes to seeing any kind of mess—but he doesn’t care. His prize is totally worth it.

“They’re tattoos!” Mark cheers, handing the capsule to Donghyuck. 

“Oh, neat!” The capsule pops open in Donghyuck’s hands to reveal two temporary tattoos about the size of a loonie coin. “I’ll take the sun, you can have the moon.”

Mark nods his agreement. He likes that the tattoos are the kind that go together, like red and blue, Donghyuck and Mark.

“I’m gonna put it near your wrist, okay?” 

Mark nods and holds out his forearm as Donghyuck peels the clear protective film from the back of the moon tattoo. Donghyuck’s fingers are firm as he holds Mark’s arm steady to stick the moon in place. 

“You gotta press it hard for five whole minutes, okay?” Donghyuck instructs, making sure Mark has his own hand securely over the tattoo before he lets go of his wrist.

Donghyuck puts the sun on his upper arm and then the two boys stand there, giggling at each other as they squeeze the tattoos onto their skin.

“Five whole minutes is a really long time,” Mark complains.

“We just need something to do while we wait,” Donghyuck counters. “Let’s sing that new DREAM song—We Go Up. Do you know it?”

Mark nods, grinning at his friend. His Dad likes to put on pop music when they clean together, Papa singing along as he washes dishes while Mark and Dad dance around with dusters and damp rags. Lately, Papa has been coaxing Mark to do the rap parts, saying he’s a  _ singer, _ not a  _ rapper. _ But he helps Mark learn all the words, so Mark is confident as he and Donghyuck sing the song together.

“I can remember your light wherever I am, keep going, we’re the same, wild and free! I put the wheels on my board, I danced, let’s go on a faster ride, let’s go!” 

Mark’s not really wild and free. He’s calm, orderly, a rule follower, a good boy. Like his Dad. But Donghyuck is wild like Mark’s Papa, bouncy and playful and loud and fun. Mark has always known that even though they’re pretty different, his parents love each other a lot. But ever since he met Donghyuck, he’s starting to really understand  _ why. _

They sing the song twice just to make sure it’s really been five whole minutes, then carefully peel away the paper to reveal the fresh tattoos. Donghyuck’s is really cool, a red and yellow sun with swirly rays, and Mark starts to whimper a bit as he lifts the paper from his own, worried that he didn’t press enough and the moon won’t be stuck properly. But the zigzaggy blue and yellow crescent stays put on his wrist as the paper lifts up, causing Mark to heave a sigh of relief.

“It turned out fine,” Donghyuck says, ruffling Mark’s hair. “You’re so dramatic.”

Mark feels his cheeks getting hot the same way he does when his Dad brags to his friends about how well Mark is doing in his Modern Dance for Beginners class.

“Whatever,” he says, brushing his hair back away from his face. He holds up the hard-won ice cream sticks. “Let’s go make a ramp—we don’t have all day.”

Donghyuck accepts the sticks, turning them over to read the name of the ice cream treats as they walk back to the sandbox. “Asteroid Pop,” he reads, then he frowns at the little lines printed on the stick to represent the treat’s tail as it streaks across the sky. “Asteroids don’t streak though,” he says. “These should be called Meteor Pops instead.”

“Let’s name the jump Meteor Pop,” Mark suggests, skipping a little to keep up with the taller boy.

Donghyuck smiles down at him. “Good idea.”

It’s starting to feel late in the day when the boys are finally finishing up their race course. Mark keeps looking up at the sky, concerned at how fast the sun seems to be going down. He’ll be sad if they don’t have time to really play with it before his parents call him for dinner.

But his parents are still talking to Donghyuck’s Dad and Donghyuck’s Dad and Mark’s Papa like to talk a  _ lot. _ And Mark’s Dad is really patient, so he’ll probably let the other two stand there and chat for a long time, smiling softly at Mark’s Papa when he gets extra excited about something. His Dad smiles at his Papa like that a lot.

Mark smiles at Donghyuck a lot when he bounces a little and wiggles side to side. “It’s done!” Donghyuck declares, putting his fists into the air in victory.

“Yeah!” Mark says, putting his fists in the air, too, and he smiles even more when Donghyuck leans over the race course with his hands raised flat. Mark leans in to meet him halfway, their double high five as loud as a starting gun.

Sometimes Mark misses Canada so much it feels like a bruise on his heart. But if he had stayed in Canada, he never would have met Donghyuck, and Donghyuck is the best.

“And the Cool Bus is off!” Donghyuck says when Mark launches the Cool Bus into action. He’s using a deeper voice than usual that’s probably supposed to sound like a TV announcer. “It’s going up the straight! It skids around the corner! Good thing it has those Super Wings to make it turn really well! And, oh—the Cool Bus totally uses the Super Wings when it goes over the Meteor Pop! Look at it shoot across the sky!”

Mark makes motor noises as he guides the bus along the track, his lips tickling as he mimics the rumble of an engine. The track is perfect, the ramp is perfect, and playing with Donghyuck is perfect.

Right up until a kid yells “Watch out!”

And then a basketball lands in the middle of the course, smashing the Meteor Pop and rolling across all the carefully-made tracks, smooshing them back into the sand before the Cool Bus could even make it to the last corner.

Mark starts to cry.

His Papa is there in an instant, lifting Mark up into his arms. “You okay, kiddo? Did the ball hit you?” 

“Nooooo,” Mark wails. “The b-ball  _ ruined _ it! It s-smashed  _ everything! _ A-and we w-worked  _ so hard!” _

“Aww, that is a shame,” his Papa agrees, pressing a kiss to Mark’s temple. “But you can build it again, right?”

“But-but the sun is going down,” Mark sobs. “W-we don’t have enough t-time!”

“I can play again tomorrow,” Donghyuck pipes up, patting Mark’s leg where it dangles from his Papa’s narrow waist.

“And I can help you tomorrow, too, if you want,” comes a new voice, belonging to a big kid holding a sandy basketball. He looks several years older than Mark and he’s wearing a jersey tank top and a face like a sad puppy. “I’m Taeil, and I’m sorry our ball ruined your fun. Really sorry.”

“See, buddy? Your friends will help you. There’s always tomorrow, okay? You have plenty of time.”

“O-okay,” Mark says, trying to calm down. He doesn’t want to look like a baby in front of Donghyuck. “Can I keep my tattoo until then?”

“Sure, kiddo,” his Papa agrees. 

“I’ll keep mine, too!” Donghyuck says. “We can still match while we make an even cooler race course.” 

“What is it, a moon?” Mark’s Papa asks.

Mark nods, smiling through the last of his tears. He turns his wrist so his Papa can see it better and whistle at it like he’s really impressed. 

“That’s really cool, buddy. And Donghyuckie’s, too! Let’s get your shoes on and go show your dads.”

The big kid sits beside them as they wipe the sand off their feet and pull their socks and shoes on again. He seems really nice for a big kid, and he keeps saying how sorry he is that he didn’t catch the ball his friend threw to him. His friend comes over to apologize, too, and Mark decides he’s okay even if he threw the basketball too hard because when he introduces himself he has two names just like Mark. Johnny says his dad paints houses for a living and he’ll bring a bunch of wooden paint sticks tomorrow that they can use for ramps and even bridges.

“That sounds like it’ll be really cool, right, Minhyungie?” Mark’s Papa sings his name in his silly teasing voice.

Mark tries to make a face at his Papa but he’s too excited about the new course they’re going to build tomorrow. He’s laughing as he and Donghyuck race across the gravel towards their dads, hand in hand, blue moon tattoo beside the matching red sun. 

Tomorrow they may have to start over, but that’s okay. He and Donghyuck make a good team. They can face all the tomorrows together, and all the tomorrows after that, too.

_ There will be time, there will be time _ __   
_ To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; _ __   
_ There will be time to murder and create, _ __   
_ And time for all the works and days of hands _ __   
_ That lift and drop a question on your plate; _ _   
_ _ Time for you and time for me..._

—  _ The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, _ T.S. Eliot

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for letting me play in your sandbox! I had a lot of fun figuring out how to "kid-ify" all of the original adventures and a ridiculously nerdy amount of satisfaction choosing a poetry excerpt to mirror the presentation of the original fic. I hope you enjoyed this reimagining of a truly excellent piece of writing.


End file.
